Hidden Impact (22 page)

The teams seemed to converge and all head through a wider open area.

“They’ve reached the front door.” Caleb said it like such a place had one, complete with reception area.

All Maylin could see was open space and a pair of doors ahead.

Suddenly, all of the cameras flashed with light. Terse words jumbled together as the teams reported in, and she couldn’t sort them. How any of them did, she didn’t know. Couldn’t imagine getting used to it.

Anxiety wound up inside her so tight she had to force herself to let go of the air she was holding in her lungs. Her jaw hurt from clenching and her heart pounded. Please, please let them come through okay.

“Flash bangs.” Gabe’s voice came across. “One Charlie has one man blind. Injuries minimal.”

The cameras resolved to images again just in time to go black as they passed through the front doors into night.

She could barely make out shadows as they moved to vehicles. The engines and shouting were enough to tell her they were moving. More gunfire. And the cameras flared again as another explosion went off ahead and to the left of one of the vehicles. The jeep Gabe was in.

It was Lizzy’s voice over the speakers. “Fucking Jewel and her IEDs.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Gabe concentrated on breathing. Not easy with acrid fumes clogging his lungs. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision. The world was upside down. Actually, they were. Could’ve been worse.

“All posts, status. One Alpha, go.”

Lizzy reported in first, broadcasting across their radio channel even though she was right next to him in the passenger seat. “Scott. Green. Moving into position to provide cover but we need to get mobile again. Stat.”

As soon as she’d checked in, she released her seat belt and scrambled out of the overturned vehicle. Gabe would do the same, but he had a suspicion his mobility was going to be more of a problem. Pain fired off at intervals down his lower back and through his legs. He’d have to go slower.

Victoria checked in next, already halfway out of the vehicle. “Ash. Green.”

“Lykke. Green. The package is unconscious. No visible injuries. Ash is assisting with extraction from vehicle.”

Good. An-mei was their highest priority. If he had to, he’d send his team back to Maylin without him.

The other fire teams continued their check-ins. No other cars had been caught in the small blast. It’d been the kind of present designed to flip a single car and cause confusion in the caravan while enemy forces focused fire on the vehicles caught behind. Only Squadron Two had already subdued what enemy units there were on site. They had a small window of time to recover and get out.

Gabe reassessed his own situation. The immediate pain had subsided. He braced himself as best he could and released his seat belt. Nothing happened.

“Fuck.” He reached for his utility knife and yanked the hooked end across the seat belt, the cutter parting the reinforced fabric with ease.

Did Maylin have one of these in her car? Not likely. He should get her one and teach her to use it.

Harte’s voice came across the comm, cool and calm. Meaning he was worried. “One Alpha Diaz, status?”

“Green.” Gabe kept his growl to a minimum. “Minor seat belt issue. Not a problem. Enemy units have not been reinforced yet. We are clear to move for now.”

Twisting and crawling out the window wasn’t an easy feat, but he made it. Muscles protested in his lower back, but he didn’t suffer any further sharp pains. Peering out into the darkness around them, he watched the deep shadows for any sign of movement.

Nothing. Yet.

Good thing his legs were working. He counted it a small win as he joined his fire team on his own. Running would be a problem if it came to it, but for the time being they doubled up in one of the other vehicles.

“Proceed slow. Use extreme caution.” Speed was not their friend at the moment, even if there was a need for it. Enemy reinforcements might be on their way, but they hadn’t shown up yet and it could be because they didn’t want to be caught in their own blast zones. There were other improvised explosive devices. Had to be. His team couldn’t afford to rush out of here and potentially trigger another mine.

The vehicles moved forward at an agonizing crawl. It would’ve been a good time for a military explosives detection unit, but they hadn’t brought any of the dogs with them. All they could do was hope there weren’t any more in the path out.

The sound of gunfire surrounded them as multiple hits sounded against the side of their vehicle with a distinct
thwang, thwang, thwang, thwang
.

There was a metallic click from inside their vehicle as Lizzy flipped up the rear iron sight on her assault rifle. The rest of his team reacted a split second later. Marc opened the west-facing window and Victoria moved to cover An-mei’s unconscious form while Lizzy shifted into position to return fire from her seat.

Gabe made the report. “One Alpha. Shots fired from the west. Scott, you got this?”

Two shots rang out. Then Lizzy reported in. “Two down. Two to go.”

Even with a regular assault rifle and iron sights instead of her sniper rifle and scope, Lizzy was one of the best he’d ever encountered. She took another shot. “One to go.”

“Roger that.”

Harte’s voice murmured over the comms in their ears, “Two Bravo and Two Charlie, move to intercept additional enemy units to the west.”

Gabe cursed. They were sitting ducks all lined up. The only comfort was that any shooter would have to stay far enough back to be clear of the potential blast zone. Too far to take aim for anything but an area target shot, so the best their attackers could hope for was a lucky hit on one of the tires. Unless there was a sniper set up out there to take a point target, his team had a chance of getting out. Problem was, their luck was running out and they couldn’t pick up speed without risking running over another mine. “Convoy, continue at current speed. Stay sharp for any additional IEDs.”

Thwang
.

The point of impact was higher, the bullet ricocheting dangerously close to the window. They all ducked down a little lower in the vehicle, covering as best they could. Marc had joined Victoria in physically providing cover to An-mei.

Lizzy took one more shot. “All targets eliminated.”

His team rode in grim silence as they crept along. All of them would end up under medical surveillance once they got home. The blast had been enough to shake every one of their brains inside their skulls, and even if they thought they had green status to get up on their own power and get the hell out, they’d need to spend the next several days letting their minds physically recover from the blast trauma.

They’d been damned lucky.

But the sticking point was one he needed to figure out: with Jewel, a person didn’t get lucky more than once. Even the chances of surviving her toys once were minuscule. He’d survived, what? Three times. Something was off.

As they hit a main road, they picked up speed finally. Gabe had started to report in when the ground under the vehicles shook enough to make them slow again.

“Holy shit.” Marc let out the curse as he braced An-mei’s still-inert body against him.

Dust clouds rose up over the trees in the direction they’d come. The base was going down in a series of explosions.

“Keep driving.” Gabe gave the order. “Let’s get clear in case there’s more to come.”

“Damage is limited to the core facility,” Harte’s voice reported over the comm. “Perimeter damage limited. You should be clear. Status?”

Gabe cleared his throat. “Clear and headed to next checkpoint. One Delta, withdraw and meet us there.”

“Roger that, Diaz. Satellites show enemy pursuit has veered off and your path is clear. Travel safe.” Harte’s acknowledgment was damned cheerful. “Your girl is awake and looking forward to seeing you.”

Was she there? Listening? He couldn’t think of something clever to say. The words he had for her were for her alone, not two crazy squadrons of mercenaries and a boss who’d never stop ragging him for it.

But if she was listening...

To hell with it. If he’d learned anything from her, it was to speak his mind. And his heart. Or he’d keep on regretting his entire life. “We’re coming home,
coração
.”

“Right here, waiting.” Maylin’s sweet voice came across the comm, low and trembling. “Thank you, all of you. Travel safe.”

Every one of the men and women in his vehicle had shit-eating grins plastered across their faces.

He studied An-mei, propped up now between Victoria and Marc but kept low enough to protect her from possible injury if they came under fire again. A possibility if they had any other delay to their exit. They were likely in the clear, but it was better to be sure. None of them would relax until they were safely back on Centurion Corporation land.

“How is she?” No more broadcasting until the next check point. This was just with his team. He hoped the girl was okay.

“Still out cold.” Marc shrugged and An-mei’s head tipped against his shoulder. “Pretty sure she passed out before we even flipped.”

Actually the best they could hope for. Unconscious and limp, her unresisting body was least likely to have taken damage.

“No visible signs of injury.” Victoria had a hold of the girl’s wrist. “Vital signs are all there. Didn’t find any broken bones once we got her clear back there. No bleeding. I honestly think it’s simple exhaustion, but we’ll know more once we make the next checkpoint and Delta team has a chance to take a more thorough look.”

“They’ve got field diagnostic gear on the copter.” More than An-mei would need the Delta team’s medical expertise. Once they arrived at the checkpoint, Gabe would make the tough decisions to prioritize the injuries. If An-mei was just unconscious, he had other team members in greater need of attention. Broken or bleeding trumped even damsels in distress.

Looking at her, she appeared to be sleeping. Hopefully a good sign.

The family resemblance was clear. An-mei shared Maylin’s delicate bone structure and incredibly fine hair. He’d gotten a good look at the same brilliant green eyes when they’d first found her too. But An-mei was shorter and lighter, somehow more fragile with a paler complexion. He didn’t think it was only from her time in captivity. The younger sister had a sort of waif quality to her. Breakable.

The last person he’d been sent to save had been a physically fit man. Worn down from days of captivity, but so much more able-bodied. Or so Gabe had thought. His mistake. Sound of body didn’t help much if a person wasn’t sound of mind, and the man had been a babbling, panic-ridden mess.

It’d been a struggle for Gabe and his team, getting the guy out of his cell. Ultimately, the man had died and his mission had been a failure. They’d barely gotten out and Gabe hadn’t come through it on his own two feet.

He needed to get An-mei back in one piece for Maylin, and for himself too. Acknowledging it freed up something deep inside him he hadn’t admitted all this time.

Every mission mattered. He cared. Couldn’t not. And it made him human even if he pretended he wasn’t.

* * *

Half an hour after Gabe had told her they were coming home, she was back in the kitchen again.

Maylin ran her fingertips along the cool marble counter. Funny how it had become home to her, more so than her apartment back downtown or the kitchens she used for her work. Before all of this, when her life had been An-mei and the catering company—well, to be honest, mostly her catering company—no kitchen had been home for her because she was always stepping into the commercial-grade places meant to feed hundreds in a single night. None of those places was the central gathering place of a family.

Gabe’s team was a family, though they might not think of it that way. Non-traditional, unconventional, but in so many ways closer in understanding and purpose than a normal family might be.

In the space of a few days, Maylin trusted them more than most of her own family ties.

She reached under the stove for a big stock pot. It was funny how they’d bought an entire cook set without knowing how to use any of the cookware. When she’d commented on it, Lizzy had shrugged and said somebody should figure out how. Or somebody who could cook would eventually find themselves there for recuperation too.

Nabbing several bones from the refrigerator, she tossed them in the stock pot with a drizzle of olive oil. Bones always made the best soup stock. Gave it a heartier quality than just bouillon. Over a medium-high flame, she’d brown them and start adding other ingredients for a nice clear soup. It’d be ready for the team when they got back.

No matter when they returned.

And that was something she had to think hard about. Reaching into the refrigerator, she pulled out carrots and celery, plus a big onion. As she washed them and cut the ends, placing the prepped vegetables on a cutting board, she let her mind run free. What was between Gabe and her was real. Undefined, but tangible. She didn’t want to give it up.

But Harte and Caleb had let her peek into the work Gabe did. She hadn’t been sure her heart could take the fear she’d had for every one of his team, and most especially for Gabe.

When the bomb had flipped his vehicle, she thought everything she loved had died.

Gabe. An-mei. His team...they’d all been in there. And with the exception of her sister, they all did this on a regular basis. They only came to Washington State to recuperate when their jobs hit them so hard they had no choice but to come here to heal. And that was only if they’d been lucky. The alternative was...unthinkable. And permanent.

Methodically, she began dicing the onion. Small, uniform pieces so they would cook at the same rate. Measurable. Everything was predictable in cooking. There was room for creativity and personal taste, but mostly cooking was a logical set of outcomes. Add something and get a quantifiable and predictable result.

Culinary chemistry, really.

In a kitchen, she had control over everything and the freedom to tweak things back and forth to reflect her mood and intentions. It was always constructive. And in her business, her rewards were in direct proportion to the level of effort she’d put into it. Fair.

What Gabe and his team did usually had a cause, as far as she understood it. There was usually a clear understanding that they were doing the right thing. But they went in with a plan and a backup plan, plus several alternatives in case everything went to hell. All they could control was their reaction to the insanity they’d gone into. And most of the time, things didn’t make sense.

She’d have no way of helping them in the future. No control over when they came back or whether they returned unharmed. She’d only be able to wait like this and maybe have something warm on the stove for them. Something that would keep because there was no knowing exactly when they’d get back.

She added the onions to the stock pot and gave the contents a stir to coat the onions in the olive oil and the drippings from the pork bones. Then she returned to the cutting board to dice the carrots and celery.

Same uniform size. Same comforting measurements. She was a creature of habit. Nothing about the last few days had been anything resembling routine except this. Cooking. And it’d made her happy to cook for Gabe and his team. She’d even gotten a feel for how to cook for each of them individually. Thoughts of dishes they specifically might like. She’d planned to make a special meal for each of them someday soon.